Oh my Jesus. I’m doing this. Gird yourselves. OK, so this year the roster got shaken up and the old ladies of yesteryear are gone, replaced with Nicki Minaj, Mariah Carey and Keith Urban. 100 years ago this panel would have just been a table of sideshow freaks. Like the Bird Girl, a guy who eats live chickens and someone with flippers.

I’m writing this at 8:45, having spent 45 minutes totally unable to think of anything to write. This is American Idol’s 92nd season and literally nothing is different. Here’s a hint – good singer, loser, loser, mediocre singer, loser, good singer, mediocre singer. Inspirational story, ridiculous story, sad story.

Keith Urban is Australian, I literally had no idea and at first I thought he was Billy Ray Cyrus. Also, and forgive me for poaching one of my own tweets, but every word out of Nicki Minaj’s mouth sounds like the drunken brain farts of a chick who feng shui’s her vagina jewelry.

I can’t look at Nicki Minaj. I feel awkward just seeing her. Mariah Carey sound intelligent here and I feel like I’m being tricked due to this. Like if I were watching another show all she’d be saying is “bradurrrrrrrrrrr” but on here she’s talking about pitch and whatnot.

Randy Jackson should be in a rocking chair chewing on a caramel at this point, spinning yarns about the time he was a famous jazz musician. Then he could tell Nicki Minaj to watch her saucy mouth and confuse her into looking for a jar of sauce for an hour or two.

There’s a one legged man this year. My goodness. He lost his leg to cancer and auditioned on American Idol and didn’t make it because apparently his star quality was in that leg.

Holy shit, Mariah Carey is bilingual, she said “shalom” to an Israeli girl. I’d tell you about her singing but do you care? Literally for the next 4 weeks all this show is about is making fun of people who suck and then parading out cancer kids.

Nicki Minaj sounds 90% brain dead. Is this how she normally talks? How can anyone even focus on what she’s saying? It’s like trying to listen to a dog say “I love you.” Like you can sort of hear it but then you don’t.

Nicki Minaj is giving tips on American life to Keith Urban, like he just rolled off the banana boat from 18th century Peru. Why am I doing this to myself? How many episodes of this show are there in a season?

Keith Urban used the word “musicality.” I know it’s a real word, but when critiquing someone’s ability to make music, it sounds ridiculous. It’s like calling someone’s cooking foodish.

Day one in New York comes to an end with the threat of more days to come. This show makes like all the money FOX uses in a year so it’s just never going to stop.

Day two starts with a dumpy Michael Jackson. It’s like the show is daring me to write this all down. Ryan Seacrest personally hates me and doesn’t think I have the stones to do this. Up yours, Seacrest.

Dumpy MJ sings Boys II Men and I want to kick my television WHICH IS EXACTLY WHY HE WAS PUT ON THE SHOW! So I defy you by not kicking my TV and instead just swearing while I type this. Know what I said? I said “For shit’s sake.” And then they give him genuine feedback. For shit’s sake.

We cut to commercial so I can go to the bathroom because I literally have to shit now. Obviously. I can’t help but wonder what would happen if you melded these four judges together with science. Would the single it released be the worst thing ever or the worst thing since Hitler?

Back from commercial and I want a drink. There’s some Jersey Shore girl just butchering mankind’s ability to hear things. 12 years this has been going on. Can’t we highlight singers who drop trou? Or worship Satan? Come on.

Some girl from a blueberry farm in Jersey is up next and I will need the support of friends and family to give a shit. You could be the best singer on Earth at this point and I staunchly refuse to give a damn. You’re on American Idol. You’re Ruben Studdard. Do you know where he is now? Of course you don’t, no one does.

There’s 30 minutes to go at this point and I’m not sure I have what it takes. I need to listen to something to inspire me.

Yes, I am the best. Around. Back to this goddamn show.

Next up is Albert Chang who doesn’t know who the judges are this year and has a thick ass Chinese accent. Stop trying to bait me you insipid program.

Albert sings something from the Phantom of the Opera and I can see Seacrest dry washing his hands maniacally before counting a stack of gold coins. Bring on another montage of losers while Nicki Minaj speaks with a shaky British accent FOR NO REASON. FOR NO REASON!

Next up is a half deaf girl. Are you goddamn serious? Stay tuned next week for a syphilitic leper who sings Johnny Cash like an angel.

Every time the judges discuss things I zone out because no.

Time for another commercial because they clearly don’t have enough show for two hours but what else are they going to put on, more Seth McFarlane cartoons? That’s all they put on for the rest of the week.

We come back from commercial to a guy who is an expert in American Idol trivia except he’s not good at it. He auditions and they edit it to make it look like he got through but really it’s just a trick because he sucks. He didn’t go through. Go home, Shitty Shitterton, we’re done making fun of how shitty you are.

There’s a Sikh up next. They literally do a little montage with him in which they refer to him as The Turbanator. He sings and turns into Jason Mraz. It’s an interesting transition. Keith Urban says no and is probably racist. He goes through anyway.

We’re back with 7 minutes left. Make it stop. The final contestant is another inspiring story because everyone is either a complete luke warm turd or an inspiration. This girls’ family adopts children with medical problems. I swear by season 20 of this show everyone will be auditioning in an iron lung while saving burnt puppies, except for one guy who auditions in drag and sings Tiptoe through the Tulips out of key.

Take a guess if the girl who adopts sick kids is a good singer or not. Just guess. Of course she hits all the high Mariah Carey notes. Nicki Minaj immediately stats gibbering on about how amazing she is. Nicki Minaj is absolutely that drunk girl you get stuck in a conversation with from Weekend Update.

The end threatens us with a preview of things to come. Rot in hell. I’m done.